


Feel Strange And Unprotected

by stpitbull



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-29
Updated: 2012-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-02 17:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stpitbull/pseuds/stpitbull





	Feel Strange And Unprotected

" _This_ ," Ralph said, holding up the nearly empty bottle of tequila and observing it like a fine gem, "is some  _exquisite_  shit."   
  
Mick chuckled warmly, taking the bottle from Ralph's fingers and pulling a messy swig. The past hour had been just the two of them and the bottle, progressing their way to this happily drunken state, collapsed companionably next to one another on Ralph's bed. Or Mick's bed. Whatever, one of their beds. Mick smacked his lips on the mouth of the bottle and agreed, "'Exquisite' is definitely the word."   
  
"It's like being tongue-kissed by God. Remind me to buy approximately six thousand more bottles from Sadie when she rolls through again."   
  
Mick laughed. "You could just get the recipe from her."   
  
"Pfft. It's Sadie, she's weird about stuff like that. The last time I asked her for that Brahmin Wellington recipe she called me a knave and a hussy and then she threw a drink on me. Wasn't that bad since she had downed most of it by then but still."   
  
Mick tossed him an amused, incredulous look as Ralph reclaimed the bottle and took another drink. "Where was I when this happened?" Mick asked around another chuckle. "Because that sounds like something I would not have wanted to miss. That is the kind of memory I would have encased in amber and adorned in silver and made a necklace of."   
  
"Dude, your metaphors are...  _complicated_ ." Ralph waved a dismissive hand. "And it was one night when I was drinking my ass off at the Wrangler. So let this be a lesson to you: every night you don't come get drunk with me, you miss out on a potentially awesome story. And all of my stories would be automatically more awesome if you were in them."   
  
And there it was, the odd little twist Mick got in his chest sometimes. Looking next to him and seeing Ralph's head on the pillow, a guileless grin on his lips and a vague flush to his cheeks, did little to assuage it. The last time he'd gone to the Wrangler with Ralph it had been a painful night of watching him getting drunker and drunker and making increasingly bold passes at Francine. Ralph had sworn up and down as Mick guided him home that he was doing it to see if she would literally turn into a Deathclaw from the unearthly power of her sheer rage but that didn't make it any more fun for Mick to see.   
  
"True though that may be," he slurred presently, "the Wrangler ain't my scene. Now, if they served stuff like  _this_ ..." He punctuated the sentence by taking the bottle.   
  
"Yyyyeah, Dr. Farkas would have a heart attack and die," Ralph predicted dryly, making Mick quickly stifle a laugh around his swing for fear of getting booze up his nose. "And then where would Freeside be."   
  
"Screwed."   
  
"Double-screwed."   
  
"Full-on super total screwed."   
  
"Nipton-screwed." Mick groaned and Ralph grinned wolfishly. "Too soon?" He took the bottle and finished it, and said, "But seriously. The Wrangler's okay. Especially if you come with me. 'Cause let's face it, I'm delightful."

Mick's chuckling rumbled to a stopping place and his palms rested heavily on his chest. "Yeah, well, maybe now that Sadie's pimpin' ass got Old Ben working there I'll join you more often, but--"   
  
He felt Ralph stiffen at his side and his stomach was suddenly drenched in a cold panic. The bed shifted as Ralph shot up and twisted to look at him. "You're  _gay_ ?"   
  
Mick scrubbed a hand over his face. He had successfully avoided this conversation for years, and all it took to undo his diligence was a little tequila. He was gonna murder Sadie if he ever saw her again, if he didn't die of embarrassment. After an agonizing moment that dragged on like an hour he forced himself to say, "Yeah. Look, it doesn't have to be a big d--"   
  
He was effectively silenced by Ralph landing on him, taking his face in both his hands and kissing him hard, the bottle clinking onto the floor utterly forgotten. A warmth that had nothing to do with the tequila surged in Mick's chest and he wrapped his arms around the sudden weight pressing onto him, parting his lips to make way for the insistent tongue prodding at them, groaning hungrily in Ralph's mouth as their tongues brushed together.   
  
It was one glorious, brainless moment of graceless hands and tongues and Ralph shifting so that his thigh nestled itself right between Mick's legs before Mick pulled back breathlessly. " _Shit_ , wait," he panted, ignoring the little whine Ralph gave that was frustrated and needy and  _completely_  fucking hot. "Waitwaitwait. You're drunk."   
  
"Am not. I am totally not drunk anymore."   
  
Mick had to laugh. "You  _are_ ."   
  
"Okay fine I am but whatever, it's a good drunk. And you are too so I demand either a damn good explanation for why you stopped kissing me or that you rectify the situation immediately."   
  
"The fact that you can still talk that coherently means I am doing something way wrong."   
  
There was a responsible part of his brain that was jumping up and down like a spaz, waving its arms and hollering that if this was just a drunken hook-up then it's gonna destroy him, and that if Ralph regret it once they sober up then it's gonna destroy him harder, and that responsible part had a point. But Ralph was in his arms, already nosing at his jaw and threading fingers through his hair, sloppily kissing at his neck, his jaw, practically purring and pushing against him like they could get any closer, and he was so warm and smelled so good and that responsible brain asshole could just fuck right off. He cupped his hands around Ralph's ass and pushed up, flipping him onto his back and landing on top of him. Ralph gave a little chuff of surprise but grinned up at him, snaking his arms around Mick's neck and tugging him down. Mick met his parted lips without a shred of hesitation, heat lancing his belly in a way that was sick and fantastic. Ralph tasted like tequila and something he couldn't place, something  _him_ , something new and familiar all at the same time. He felt Ralph's hands sliding under his shirt, up his back and his arms couldn't hold him up anymore, and he landed against Ralph and just started kissing at his neck, relishing the groan he got when he sucked skin into his mouth.   
  
Ralph chuckled breathlessly and panted, "You realize we could have been doing this for  _years_ , right?  _Years_ ."   
  
"I know, right? What is  _wrong_  with us?" Mick's words were muffled by skin, his breath hot and gusting up Ralph's throat and he felt the man under him shudder from it.

"Your shirt needs to be gone already," Ralph said, tugging at the offending garment in clumsy fists and Mick sat up slightly to try and unbutton it, hands getting smacked away by Ralph who insisted, "No, stop that, I wanna do it."   
  
Mick grinned, heart jumping at the feel of slim fingers fumbling through buttons and brushing against his skin and he moved to work open Ralph's shirt himself, four arms tangling together in the war against fabric and in his still-heady drunkenness Mick lost his balance and fell forward, both shirts successfully unbuttoned but still on their respective shoulders. The shock of skin against skin made both men groan. "This is fine," Ralph breathed, running his hands possessively down Mick's back.   
  
"Yeah, close enough," Mick agreed, grinding against him.   
  
Ralph arched into him and his head pressed back against pillows. " _Fuck_ , that. More of that, please." Mick was more than happy to oblige.   
  
Every groan and gasp was a gift as he rolled his hips down, grinding into Ralph's hip, feeling the hard bulge pressing into his thigh. And it was still swimming in the haze of his mind that  _fuck_ , this was  _happening_ , Ralph was actually writhing under him, face pressed against his and these fucking  _delicious_  little whimpers escaping his parted lips in these hot bursts of air that felt like heaven against Mick's sweatdampened skin, and Ralph's hands were tangled in his hair and this was happening, this was  _happening_ . His heart might as well have burst. Felt like it was going to any second.   
  
He pulled himself up a bit, head still held in place next to Ralph's by the hands in his hair so they kept breathing each other's air and he fumbled with their respective belt buckles, hands shaking and body on fire. He tugged himself out of his pants and had just gotten his hand around Ralph's cock and thought maybe they could get this part right but then Ralph gave this  _moan_  at the touch and he was so fantastically hard and hot in Mick's hand and this would just have to do. He tried to wriggle better out of his trousers but it was useless. "Fuck pants," he mumbled. "Seriously man, fuck pants  _so much_ ." Ralph's laugh devolved into another groan as Mick took them both in hand and started moving, pumping into his fist and breath catching at the glorious feeling of slick friction, of flesh sliding together and of Ralph arching back into the pillows, pulling his hair reflexively and  _wow_ , yeah, that was definitely okay.   
  
"Fucking  _god_ ," Ralph whined, biting Mick's lower lip in a messy, desperate action and he warned, "I ain't gonna last long, just warning you."   
  
"I know," Mick panted. "I know, me either." Because all of it was just too much because it was  _happening_  and all he wanted was more, years and years of wanting this and now he was more drunk on Ralph's moans than tequila anymore and  _he_  was the one making them happen. Ralph tugged him down by the hair and kissed him, the hot clash of mouths sloppy and needy and perfect. Heat tore through Mick and he came with a raw groan and just collapsed, couldn't hold himself up anymore, fist still pumping at Ralph's cock trapped between their bodies and Ralph grabbed at his shoulders so hard he knew they'd be bruised tomorrow, proof that this happened, no matter what happened after. Ralph came in hot bursts between their bodies and Mick drank in his ragged panting like it was sacred. Because it was.

Ralph's body relaxed beneath him and he let himself go boneless, burying his face in the crook of Ralph's neck. Ralph slid his hands up from their deathgrip on Mick's shoulders to thread through his hair again, angled to press slow, languid kisses against Mick's damp forehead. "That," Ralph said softly as he caught his breath, "was  _way_  too long in the making. Don't get me wrong, I like a good wait, but jeez."   
  
Mick chuckled breathlessly, mindlessly nuzzled against him, and god he smelled so good. He always had, to Mick anyway, in that way that he'd notice in aching, inappropriate moments but this was something different. Something he could hold onto. "What can I say?" he breathed, lips brushing against Ralph's throat. "I got a horrible sense of timing. Speaking of, is it way too soon to tell you I love you?"   
  
"You've told me that like a million times. Exactly one million times, you just made it a million and one."   
  
"Yeah, but I was drunk as shit all those times--"   
  
"You're drunk  _right now_ ."   
  
"--an' this time I mean it different. You know."   
  
He felt Ralph's cheek shift where it was touching his ear as he grinned, fingertips threading affectionately through his hair. "Yeah," and he would never, ever get tired of that hazy, warm quality in Ralph's voice, "yeah, I know."


End file.
